


Sky Comes Falling Down

by Magi_Silverwolf



Series: The Quiet Calm [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: D/s undertones, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Intelligent Harry, Mythology References, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Not Epilogue Compliant, Paganism, Passive Suicidal Ideation, References to Depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-29
Updated: 2017-10-29
Packaged: 2019-01-26 00:43:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12544992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magi_Silverwolf/pseuds/Magi_Silverwolf
Summary: Harry didn't know how long he sat in front of his parents' graves, silently falling apart. But eventually Luna found him like always and knew exactly what he needed, just like after Sirius' death.





	Sky Comes Falling Down

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the original canon nor am I making any profit from writing this piece. All works are accredited to their original authors, performers, and producers while this piece is mine. No copyright infringement is intended. I acknowledge that all views and opinions expressed herein are merely my interpretations of the characters and situations found within the original canon and may not reflect the views and opinions of the original author(s), producer(s), and/or other people.  
> Warnings: This story may contain material that is not suitable for all audiences and may offend some readers.

**Song Recommendation(s):** “Hey Brother” by Jada Facer

 **Timeline Reference** : Post HP Series; during _Through the Storm_ [first section]; October 31, 1998

-= LP =-  
Sky Comes Falling  
-= LP =-  
“It isn’t sacrifice if you love what you’re doing.” – Mia Hamm  
-= LP =-

 

Luna found him at his parents’ grave. Harry didn’t need to understand how she managed that, but he was more than willing to brush it aside as Luna being, well, Luna and leave it at that. There was certain things in his crazy life that were constant and Luna’s unerring ability to find him when he needed her was one of them. He didn’t think he would ever be able to tell her how much her friendship meant to him. He wasn’t certain if the words even existed to convey it, and he had gone looking that long summer after Sirius’ death.

 

She didn’t say anything as she settled near him on the ground. He appreciated that as well. Hermione tended to ask questions designed to make him talk about his feelings. He got that she was trying to help—he really did. But he didn’t want to be pressured into understanding how he felt or sorting out that tangled web. He didn’t want to solve anything. He just wanted to be left alone to grieve for once. Luna’s presence, nearby but unobtrusive, was still welcomed. When she leaned closer, he pressed back to make the connection more solid, more real. Eventually, she began carding her fingers to his hair, melting him against her in tiny increments.

 

“I didn’t know anything about them growing up,” Harry said finally, not because the silence was unbearable or to stave off questions. Luna’s hand didn’t stop petting him, just as steady as his voice as he said the words he had never dared before. He didn’t think that anyone had ever realized it and he really didn’t think that anyone else would understand. “Aunt Petunia didn’t approve of questions in general, but about my parents? Yeah, that was a definite no-go. Eventually, Aunt Marge spilled the beans about the supposed car wreck, but it felt off, you know? But I didn’t even know their names until Hagrid told me while delivering my acceptance letter. The first time I visited was last Christmas and we didn’t even come here for them. We were following a lead on Voldemort.”

 

Harry rested his head on her shoulder, giving into the urge to shrink into himself, to let the hero persona go for what felt like the first time in years. He just breathed through his nose, letting her hair stir with the motion of the air. He loved the way Luna always smelled, at least whenever he managed to get close like he was at this moment. It was floral but not overwhelmingly strong like the yarrow that Ginny wore or Hermione’s rose water. It always reminded him of the tangle of wild Star-of-Bethlehem that grew in the garden beside the library in Little Whinging. It fit her, soft but present, wild but soothing.

 

“I don’t even know why I came today,” he whispered, not even trying to stop the whining undertone from creeping into the words. “Halloween never mattered before, was just a reason for Dudley to pig out on candy. At Hogwarts, it always meant that something was going to happen and I would just end up cleaning up the fallout like I always had to with Dudley. But this morning, when I woke up, I just had to come and I don’t know why. I just had to.”

 

“Wrackspurts do love you,” Luna offered genially, adding a delicate scratch to the downstroke of her petting. Harry gave a single huff of good humor at the words. She shivered despite her woolen coat. Before he could really think about it, Harry had wrapped his arms around her, offering what little body heat he possessed about being outside for hours. Luna bussed his forehead, just above the mostly-faded scar. “They like people who think of others, and that is something you do in spades, isn’t it? So yes, they love you. You’re easy to love.”

 

“Lu-na,” he whined. He couldn’t protest the words more around the lump in his throat. So he pressed his cheek harder against her coat. Her stroking became all scratching for a few moments before she returned to just carding her fingers through his hair. Likewise, he returned to melting.

 

“My mother came from Kythira,” she said after a while. He had lost track of time, but it had been long enough that she was now bearing most of his weight. Harry tried to straight out of his slump, still muzzy with relaxation but aware enough to know he was heavy. Luna pressed her palm against the back of his neck to settle him back against her before continuing as if nothing had disturbed them. “Well, not really. It was actually a smaller island about five miles off the coast of Kythira, towards Crete, but it’s been Unplottable for longer than wizardry has existed, so it’s easier to just say Kythira.” She rewarded his hum of acknowledgement with a brief tightening of her grip on his neck. He sunk deeper into the calmness of her scent and touch. “She only came to England because of Daddy. He couldn’t stay there and she couldn’t stand to be without him. He was her Orpheus and she followed him just as faithfully as Eurydice all the way here.”

 

“So he didn’t look back?” he murmured against her neck, earning a thumb-rub over his pulse and another kiss to his forehead from Luna. “That’s good. I would have missed you.”

 

“I think you would be capable of missing someone who didn’t exist,” she said after humming in thought. “You can do so much more than you let others know. You notice so much more. Shh. You do, so don’t deny it.” She rubbed a single fingertip against the bone behind his ear, stopping his attempted protest as much as her instruction had. “I know you like to hide and I will let you return to them, but I also know that you need to be noticed right now, to not be alone.”

 

Luna squeezed his neck again, silently reminding him that she had a hold of him, that she had him. His eyes prickled as he let himself revel in the feeling of being anchored by someone else, of not needing to be the one holding onto the world because someone else already was. It was ironic that it was Luna, who had always seemed distant from reality, as if she was floating above the world or like her mind was moving so fast that she couldn’t slow enough for others to keep pace. There was still no denying that Luna had never failed to understand exactly what he needed just as she always managed to be exactly where he had needed her to be. Luna was Luna and it was better to just leave it at that.

 

“My mother always said that water could cure everything if applied the correct way. It’s a Kythiran saying, I think. Probably tied to the island’s mythos.”

 

“Aphrodite,” Harry agreed. He could almost swear that he could smell the smile she gave, like a sudden warm breeze stirring the flowering vines that made up the real-world source of her scent. The hand in his hair gave him a few more scratches before returning to its rubbing.

 

“Just so, lovey,” she said in return, little more than a quiet whisper to his hair. “Every Hallowtide, we’d make these cookies that were the perfect offering for Death. They’re actually rather tasty, even when I can’t stand the taste of anything else.” The hand on the back of his neck flexed, pulling his focus back before he had even noticed that it had begun to wander. “They make a decent meal replacement, short-term, of course, but good for study binges or stubborn friends who are prone to skipping meals when stressed.” She shushed the quiet whine that slipped out before he could stop it. “It’s okay, and I understand why, but food is needed to keep your energy up and help healing. You really shouldn’t skip any meals that you don’t have to. You can’t really afford it, you know.”

 

“I don’t—” Harry cut off the protest on his own, suddenly uncertain of how he wanted to finish it. A tide of panic threatened to swamp him as he weighed the lies he could have used. He knew he skipped meals; he did actually need as much food as everyone else; and no amount of steady nutrition now was going to make up for the years where the Dursleys had restricted his meals so heavily. His stomach twisted unpleasantly as the scar on his hand twinged. Luna hummed deep in her throat and the vibration tickled his nose.

 

“I brought two cookies,” she announced finally. “You can give one of them to your parents, but you need to eat the other one. Your mother would probably prefer you eat both, because that’s what mothers do, but I know that you won’t leave without offering them something and I think you need tea.”

 

“And pudding?”

 

“And even shepherd’s pie,” Luna finished as if she had planned the menu before she had found him sitting in a graveyard. Luna being Luna, maybe she had. For all that she always seemed overwhelmed to be around people, he had noticed that she always did things deliberately. It was being around people that seemed to throw her off balance. She tugged on his hair, gently but firmly pulling his face from her neck. Her eyes swept over his face before she nodded. The hand on the back of his neck stayed but the one in his hair let go as she shifted away from him. “You need to eat, Harry. Will you do that for me?”

 

“I’m tired,” Harry replied, because he knew she would understand what he meant. The weariness went so much deeper than just physical. He had been fighting his entire life, it seemed. Every scrap of attention or food from the Dursleys had been an uphill battle to gain. Every moment spent reading when his primary school would take away his library privileges any time Dudley managed to blame something on him had to be stolen as they came. Then Hogwarts with its confusing rules and heavy expectations had been a literal battleground long before the Death Eaters invaded to kill Dumbledore, long before the Toad and her decrees.

 

He would never tell Hermione and Ron because it would hurt them, but going to Voldemort had been for relief as much as to save everyone. It was supposed to be over. He was supposed to be able to rest. He was just so tired—of going to training every day and realizing that the Death Eaters weren’t the only bigoted assholes with power, of watching as life went on around him while he couldn’t stop feeling numb about most things, of hearing the beats of silence whenever George talked because even after almost six months he still left pauses for Fred to speak. He was just so fucking tired.

 

The hand on his neck squeezed tight, grounding him as it reminded him that Luna, as always, had him. He closed his eyes and let himself relax back into the hold. Like the caress of sunlight, he could feel something intangibly Luna wrap around him, untamed but calm, gentle but strong.

 

“I know, lovey,” she said as she used her free hand to trace the line of his right cheekbone and the curve of his jaw. He leaned into the touch only to whine when the hand disappeared briefly. “I know you’re tired, but I wouldn’t be able to just let you go, you know, even if I had to charm a ferryman myself to get to you.” Harry managed to get his eyes open enough to see the intensely focused expression on Luna’s face. “I wouldn’t look back either.”

 

Something sweet-smelling and crumbling brushed against his lips, prompting him to take the bite of cookie Luna was offering. The taste of elderberries and bilberries exploded on his tongue before his teeth released the flavor of hazelnuts to join it. As she fed him the promised cookie bit by bit, her words sunk into the weary ache of his soul. Luna kept up a soothing hum and a steady stroking of her thumb over his pulse.

 

The tiredness receded just a bit under her care.

 

Luna, being Luna, hummed something that sounded vaguely like a dirge. Harry, being Harry, let himself be directed through the motions of what needed to be done to get them back to the Rookery as expeditiously as possible. Then he accepted the cup of tea spiked with a splash of hawthorn wine.

 

Luna had found him, as she always unerringly did.

 

All was not well but Luna had his back, and it was best to leave it at that.

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Note Containing Competition Information:  
> House: Hufflepuff  
> Category: Short  
> Prompts: Family Tradition  
> Word Count: 2142 (Story); 2156 (Story & Epigraph)


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